Luyện nghe bài hát No Equal

(Number One
Competition is none) -->

[ VERSE 1: ]
got me steamin, bout to flip my lid
Fuck around, and I to blow your back out, kid
(Boom!) Not to say I'm on a tip
But my hand stays on my gun, in you start some shit
Cause I rhymin since way back when
Straight up and from the heart is how always been
Now niggas wanna test me
But all that tongue-twistin shit don't impress me
It's a phase, and you know damn well
That fall off in a minute, cause that shit don't sell
Funny how you think you surpass me, or outlast me
With bullshit style, you're fallin fast, gee
See, I you go back where you came from
(Your mic, and my mic) on, don't play, son
See, the days of dues is over
I'm a little fed up, and it's time that I ya
We battle one time, you're dead, no
(Your mic, and my mic - on yo, no equal) --> Q-Tip

You we're number one
is none

[ VERSE 2: Les ]
The wiggedy-wicked Psycho Les drops it like a
back-breakin bitches with my super dick
Hat's on the jim, I nut in em
St. Ides fucks up eyes, and I bend em
Down, while I'm flowin to this nutty
Open up the knapsack, check out we found
H-h-horns, bass,
Beats get chopped in the Nut Shop, we don't waste
Yo, I'm 'cold like Flavor
Floatin at the top while you're sick, and 'nothin can ya'
Just like the Biz
Remember - uugh! - styles I to be, what is it?
(The shizzit) Word to mama
I bend your girl like a
Due to Lambada, I I gotta
Stop, the bitch said, "(???)"
So I nutted, and I got out
(Boom!) No matter how hot you claim to be, you roast this
Nut, up? You wanna get eaten up like a hostess?
'Cup', 'cake', you know my are lethal
(Your mic, and my mic - on yo, no equal)

[ VERSE 3: (Al' Tariq) ]
line I connect, my literature's perfect
Per minute, per second, and yo, you gotta
On with Fashion, cause by the way I'm rippin
thinks I take a loss has hamstrings
Young dames, I shoot em and Jimmy aims to her
Sex with this flex, thing tends to lock up
Yeah, really bad ass, smokin past you
The chicks I stick shit with, I your figures
Triggers, I pull em with no remorse for
Fash pumps the hotties, chumps pump with
Shoot em up, bang-bang! Miss rarely
Mics I touch up, I em daily
Barely who can test the cool Fash
Asses I kick in the ashes, dumpin
So don't riff, cause I flow like the Nile, son
Tame is for plain Jane fame, I'm a one
I let loose the
Fierce MC-i-n-g in me
Cool Fash, sendin a to rap people
(Your mic, and my mic - on yo, no equal)